


The Subatomic Composition of Castles

by Elise_Davidson



Category: Big Bang Theory
Genre: Bernadette!feels, Birthday, Hollister, Multi, Sheldon!feels, Surf City, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elise_Davidson/pseuds/Elise_Davidson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Penny's birthday. Zinc oxide, a gay bartender, unabashed smut, Age of Conan sand castles, new trials, old errors, and eventually, everyone decides they're not just a little crazy about each other, but a lot in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Subatomic Composition of Castles

**Author's Note:**

> So much love to Charlotte for beta'ing and Sam for listening to my psych!diatribes XD Enjoy!
> 
> ETA: Once again, I seem to be having issues with getting italics to work, so I'm leaving them out. Hopefully, this doesn't detract from the story; if it does, you can behold all of the italics over at ff.net under the same pen name as the one I have here.
> 
> Enjoy all the same!

It takes Bernadette giving Sheldon a detailed, microscopic screening of the water (including a list of any and all potential microbes in order of pathogenicity) plus her interpretation—as a microbiologist—of the dangers of swimming in the ocean versus a privately owned pool versus a community pool. She ends up doing the analysis four times on three different samples of water from the aforementioned locales.

Even then, he's not pleased with her summary reports—she ends up writing them three times before he feels she's included any and all data, and the explanations are to his satisfaction.

Bernadette's pretty sure she hasn't done so much lab work since her master's degree. She grits her teeth though and gets through it (Sheldon standing behind her while she looks down the microscope the entire time), because it's Penny's birthday, and they'd promised. Well, she had promised—Sheldon had made no such agreement, and wasn't buying the "Non-optional social convention" line that had worked in the year they'd been attempting this…

Thing.

Bernadette doesn't even know what to call it. She sighs, goes over the checklist Sheldon had given her—honestly, they're only going to be gone for the weekend, and it's not even like they're actually traveling anywhere outside of their own relative backyard.

She dimly realizes that Sheldon's speaking and pacing around her apartment with his usual jerky movements. His windbreaker is swishing as he does so, and she looks up warily.

"Do we really need to bring cast materials for broken limbs?" Bernadette finally asks.

Sheldon looks at her wildly; she must've interrupted his tirade for him to look this agitated. "Are you insane?" he snaps.

Bernadette rolls her eyes. "Of course not—besides, my father had me tested."

He looks at her for a moment before giving a sarcastic, breathy laugh.

It's damn well been a learning experience, she realizes—and not just in the wayward stylings of adolescent experimentation. Bernadette settles her chin on her fist as she watches Sheldon pace and bluster. She's really a lot crazy about both of them.

Sheldon half-falls, half-flops on the couch beside of her, looking slightly out of breath and a lot ruffled. He must be, if he's "flopping" anywhere—she doesn't have the heart to tell him that she thinks Penny's had an effect on them both in the past year.

"This is for Penny, you know," Bernadette points out quietly, and hesitantly traces his knuckles with the tips of her fingers. He doesn't flinch—he's gotten better about that too. His head is leaned against the back of the couch as he breathes evenly. She recognizes it as him trying to calm himself down. "And she'll have a blast. But you need to chill out."

"But…" Sheldon trails weakly, and sits up to finish the thought. His voice is not much stronger when he continues than when he started. "There'll be people and germs and lord knows what else, and—"

"Sheldon," Bernadette interrupts, because she doesn't want him having a full-scale meltdown without Penny present to punch him out of it. Instead, she sits up straighter herself, and gently traces her hands over his sharp, angular face. He does flinch the tiniest bit at that, but it's not because she's touching him, she doesn't think. She thinks it's because he actually wants to go through with this, but his neuroses are screaming at him too much for him to hear the desire to please them both.

"Yes?" he prompts when she doesn't say anything else.

She smiles at him though, something that's full of warmth and safety, and brushes her lips quickly over his mouth. "It'll be okay."

Sheldon picks up the checklist, thumbing through his meticulously ordered itemizations. "I hope you realize that your skin is extraordinarily fairer than myself or Penny, and you will need to take the necessary precautions to avoid any carcinogenic mutations."

Bernadette nods, wants to drop her head on his shoulder. She goes ahead and does it, and nearly jumps out of her skin when he pets a hand awkwardly down her hair. She cocks an eyebrow at him curiously, unaware of the fact she'd picked up the move from Sheldon himself.

Sheldon gives a one-shouldered shrug, and waves a hand at her. The rippled motion briefly settles, and he taps her nose. He's been doing that for months though, and it doesn't surprise her nearly as much as him touching her hair.

Still, it's unspoken that he's trying, and she gives him the same beaming smile as before.

Sheldon doesn't tell her how much it calms him down when she smiles at him like that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Penny's wrapped and tangled in her sheets like a mummy with Cheer Bear squished under her head and Grumpy Bear giving support between her knees when the knocking starts. She groans—she's not even sure what time it is, but she sure as hell recognizes the damn knocking.

Crap on a cracker, it's her damn birthday, and she'll sleep in if she wants. The knocking comes again, and this time, it's definitely not the triple-knock. But if the triple-knock came before, and there was only a brief pause before the second, softer, normal knock, then it must be Bernadette, and—

Oh christ, she really shouldn't be able to analyze knocking patterns at—Penny grunts and turns her head as she fumbles for her cell phone. Forget the cracker, she's going to punch someone in the throat.

Penny tumbles out of bed and hits the floor hard enough that she yelps as her knees slip-slide against the sheets.

It's barely a minute before Sheldon's bursting through her door, looking concerned and wild-eyed.

Penny wonders if she's in an alternate universe—Sheldon and Bernadette both have that pasty white stuff on their noses—the stuff that she's seen pasty white people wear at the beach. He's also dressed luridly in a clashing atrocity of a Hawaiian shirt, and eye-searing swim-trunks.

Bernadette's not much better off—her shirt's not as painful to look at, but her socks (are those leprechaun socks?) are still a horror against her sandals, and the straw hat is dwarfing her head.

"What the crap is going on?" Penny groans as Sheldon begins to delicately untangle her from the sheets.

Bernadette kneels beside of her, and brushes Penny's hair from her sleepy face. "It's your birthday," she says, as if it were obvious. "Sheldon and I are taking you somewhere for it."

"It's 7:00AM," Penny stresses, and the minute one of her arms comes free, she balls a fist.

Sheldon immediately stretches an arm across Bernadette and protects his throat with his free hand. "Non-optional social convention!" he squawks.

Penny raises an eyebrow (Sheldon's pretty certain if he tells them that they've both stolen his patented eyebrow-raise, they'll think he's insane, despite all tests to the contrary), and slowly unballs her fist.

"Explain now," Penny grumbles, and starts to peel herself from the floor. "And someone better be making coffee while it's being done."

"Bernadette, I believe Penny will be more amenable to your dulcet tones this early in the morning," Sheldon mutters, and nearly bolts out of the room.

"Wimp!" Bernadette hollers after him—even though she and Howard have long since broken up, her voice still shifts a little to Mrs. Wolowitz-mode when she yells, and it makes Penny cringe. She turns back to Penny though, kneeling back in the floor to give Penny a hand up. "Are you alright? We heard a thump and a yell."

"Fell out of bed," Penny mumbles and drags herself into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Bernadette lingers behind for a moment—it's not like she's never seen Penny brush her teeth before, but it's still just domestic enough that she feels like she's intruding a little.

Penny gestures her in though, and begins brushing and flossing.

Bernadette wrinkles her nose a little—she's not sure she's comfortable enough with that yet. Well, she didn't think she was comfortable with a lot of things about six months ago, and Penny proved her wrong there too.

"Explaining?" Penny asked after she spits out her mouthwash, and she sounds a little less groggy as the smell of coffee fills the apartment.

"Oh, right," Bernadette says, and walks back out. "It's your birthday, silly. Sheldon and I have a surprise for you."

"If it involves trains or aliens—"

"Penny, they're bacteriophages!" Sheldon yells from the kitchen.

"Aliens!" Penny yells back, and waves at Bernadette to continue.

"We were honestly debating just wrapping you up in a sleeping bag and driving you there before we woke you up, but Sheldon didn't think we'd be able to smuggle you out of the apartment building without some kind of law enforcement being notified," Bernadette offers up apologetically, and blushes a little when Penny unabashedly pulls off her sleep wear.

"You did tell him it's not a crime without intent, right?"

Bernadette giggles a little. "I told him anything we got noticed for, my dad'd be able to get us out of it. It wouldn't be the first time—Sam was a troublemaker too." She sits on Penny's bed, averting her eyes a bit as Penny dresses unashamedly. "Anyway, we've got a surprise for you."

"No diseases or particles or trains or micro-thingies, right?" Penny asks suspiciously.

Bernadette sighs, and pushes a piece of hair under her hat. "Do we look like we're going to any of those places?"

Penny shrugs. "You look like you just got off the plane from England and you're taking in the sites, shoobie-style."

"Shoobie?" Bernadette asks, because she's unfamiliar with the term.

Sheldon enters the room again, and nearly drops the coffee cup he's carrying when he sees Penny's only half-dressed. "Good lord," he mutters, covering his eyes. "Penny, really…just because the paradigm has been modified to include physical and emotional attachments does not mean you can simply strip all willy-nilly whenever you feel the necessity to do so."

Penny snorts and takes the coffee before she absently pecks him on the cheek, and then does the same for Bernadette. "Like either of you were complaining the last time I got willy-nilly about clothing."

Bernadette blushes deeper as Penny finishes dressing. "She's got a point."

Sheldon looks irritated, and then glances at his watch. "Come along; we have a strict itinerary." He begins to stride out of the room when Penny tugs him back; he falls enough off-balance that they both tumble against the bed. He squawks as he flails, a bony knee missing Bernadette's ribs by an inch. She yelps too, but doesn't get away before Penny reaches forward and tugs her back too.

"I think sleep should've been taken into consideration, given it's my birthday," Penny grumbles, and snuggles against a fidgety-Sheldon. Bernadette looks like she can't decide whether to laugh, jump out of the bed, or jump closer, so she settles for brushing her hand down Sheldon's arm.

"Violation of personal space; that's a strike for you both," Sheldon mutters, but isn't twitching as he catches Bernadette's wrist in his hand, letting his fingers catch on the bones there. He's about to say something else, but allows his voice to snag in his throat when Penny reaches over him to kiss Bernadette quickly.

Sheldon swallows thickly and audibly; he's not sure why it's so enticing to watch them do this. He wants to kiss either one of them, wants to be a part of what's going on above him. The tic in his knee is still going at the fact they'll be running late if they don't leave soon.

Instead, he catches some of Bernadette's hair, and kisses her first. She grunts softly in surprise, and feels Penny take off her sunhat. She feels a set of fingers tracing around the tops of her knee socks. The fingers are long and narrow—must be Sheldon.

Sheldon smiles the tiniest bit against Bernadette's lips when he feels Penny's mouth tracing shapes and patterns against his neck. The smirk disappears all together when her hands follow the lean line of his torso, running into one of Bernadette's at the waist of his swim trunks.

Sheldon releases Bernadette's mouth, only to nip at Penny's. Someone's hand is going under his shirt; he's forgotten they were supposed to be leaving. When he pulls back and opens his eyes, it's because he's got a hand wormed into Penny's shirt to trace against her warm skin. He bends his other arm over his shoulder, because he needs to feel Bernadette with him there too.

"Strict item thingie?" Penny asks with a grin, and bites at his neck.

Sheldon grunts, and—to his own surprise—doesn't flinch a wink when Bernadette presses against his other side, and bites at his earlobe. He glares at Penny before he realizes that some of the zinc oxide protectant on his nose has rubbed all over Penny's face and neck from where he's been touching her.

This does make him smile though, and he glances back at Bernadette, who has similar marks on her own clothes and neck. It's enough to make him laugh a bit, and when Bernadette pops up over his shoulder to see what he's on about, she notices too—it makes her break into giggles.

Penny looks utterly lost. "Wha—?"

Bernadette reaches over Sheldon this time, but her hands bumps with his as they both wipe at the smudges of white paste on Penny's skin. She looks at their fingers, and drops her head onto Sheldon's shoulder to laugh a little as well.

"Alrighty," Sheldon says quietly, and takes a deep breath. "We're already seven minutes behind schedule—if we do not leave within the next ten minutes, the entire day will be irretrievable."

Bernadette rolls her eyes, but lifts herself off the bed.

"So…do I need to pack or bring anything?" Penny asks as they head towards the door together.

"Already taken care of," Bernadette replies cheerfully. "Just yourself; Sheldon and I did the rest."

Penny raises an eyebrow as she quickly preps a travel mug full of coffee. "Well…let's get this party started then."

Leonard's coming out of his own apartment as the trio is coming from Penny's. He looks at them briefly—Sheldon and Bernadette seriously look like they've just come off a plane and they're visiting California for the first time (all that's missing is a fanny pack), and they've all got what looks like zinc oxide smudged all over their necks and shoulders.

Sheldon tosses him a look. "What are you staring at?"

Leonard shakes his head quickly, as if doing so will erase the vibrantly colored clothes they're wearing. "Just…just curious."

Sheldon snorts. "Curiosity killed the cat."

Leonard gestures with his coffee mug. "No amount of satisfaction is ever going to erase whatever…this is," he finally says, and exits back into his apartment. He's not leaving until they're gone, because seriously, he just doesn't want to know.

Penny rolls her eyes as they get to Bernadette's car. Sheldon's fumbling with something, and when she realizes it's a damn fanny pack, she draws the line.

"You two aren't seriously going out like that, are you?"

Bernadette's replacing her sunhat on her head, and gives Penny a confused look. "What makes you say that?"

Penny waves them off, and decides that there's not enough coffee in the world. "Why the leprechaun socks?" she asks again.

Bernadette smiles as she starts the car. "I burn easily." Her tone is the same as when she told Penny earlier that it was her birthday—it suggests that whatever she's just said explains it all.

Sheldon nods beside of her though. "Most practical," he agrees.

"Wake me when we get there," Penny mutters, and curls up in the backseat, giving the rest of her coffee to Bernadette.

Sheldon looks at Bernadette as Penny's snores refill the air. He reaches back awkwardly to reposition Penny so it's not quite so loud. "Honestly, it's like explaining to a toddler that fire burns after they've put their hand in it."

"Be nice," Bernadette admonishes. "Or I won't convince Penny later that you completely didn't know that there was a model train store in Huntington Beach."

Sheldon crosses his arms irritably. "There are approximately 250, discounting the run-of-the-mill hobby shops or stamp collectors, and also excluding the inane toy stores for children."

Bernadette's mouth curves though. "Like a kid in a toy store."

"Honestly, they're model trains."

"If I hear anything else about trains or aliens, I'm jumping ship," Penny grumbles from the back.

Bernadette notes with amusement that even though they've been this weird sort of together for about a year, Sheldon's still fairly clueless in helping himself.

"Bacteriophages," Sheldon points out, and yelps when Penny kicks his seat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It's sooner than she expected (though no amount of time they'd given her would've been enough unless it'd been noon) when Penny feels someone shaking her. She jerks awake, because she feels like she hasn't slept nearly enough, but at the same time, Bernadette and Sheldon are both kneeled backwards on their seats expectantly.

"What time is it?" Penny asks, blearily rubbing her eyes and groping awkwardly for the coffee cup she remembers making (but doesn't remember giving to Bernadette).

Bernadette helpfully hands her a new cup though; she looks excited. "We're here!" she chirps.

Sheldon's chin is resting on the hands he has folded over the corner of his chair. "As aesthetically pleasing as you are at rest—i.e. not causing immeasurable chaos to those around you—Bernadette and I have not planned this weekend in order for you to sleep in the car like a hobo."

Bernadette gets out of the car and immediately heads for the trunk. Sheldon's still looking at Penny expectantly; Penny thinks she can see a trace of excitement in his face as well.

"Well?" he asks.

Penny waves at him, and starts gulping coffee. It's hot, and it burns her tongue a little, but she really needs the caffeine. She steps out of the car, and notes the salty air. She drops the coffee in the next instant, immediately realizing why, exactly, it had been much sooner than expected that they'd woken her.

It's Huntington Beach. It's frakkin' Surf City, USA. It's early enough that while there's definitely plenty of people, it's not nearly as crowded as its going to be later on. She's always wanted to come here, has always dreamed a little bit of luxuriating in the sand as a famous movie star, or award-winning screenwriter. She'd have a little beach house out this way, where she would come when she's not working—

"Splendid idea, Bernadette," Sheldon says to her as Penny's staring at the beach. "Now, could you please relinquish the zinc oxide so that I may avoid first and second degree burns?"

Before Bernadette can so much as open the rather large beach bag she has, Penny's got them both in a wild, chaotic hug. It's uncomfortable at first, because Penny's got them pressed tightly against her in thanks, and Sheldon's immediately stiffened like a board. Bernadette finds herself a little lost between them owing to her shorter stature, but she wraps an arm around each of their waists.

When she pulls back, Penny's got zinc oxide on her hair and her chest. It makes Bernadette giggle again, and she gestures to the trunk. "We've packed you a bag—and don't worry; I picked your clothes."

Penny shrugs as she starts going through the neatly packed bag of her things—some of the tops are from her more modest selections (you can take the scientist out of the church, but not the church out of a scientist sometimes, especially when concerning 13 years of Catholic school), but it's easy enough to find her swimsuit, towel, and a wrap.

Penny's about to head for one of the beachside bathrooms when Sheldon starts squawking immediately about microbes and the lack of testing for that particular area—they've only done the water and bits of sand.

Instead, Sheldon all but shoves Penny into the backseat of the car while he and Bernadette shade the windows with other beach towels so she can change. It only takes a few minutes, and Penny's bounding back out of the car, all excitement and eagerness.

"I can't believe you guys!" she squeals, reaching out to twine her arms around their waists as she tugs them towards the water. Sheldon looks like he's going to complain—he's almost ready to dig his heels in; he hasn't gone through any of the preparatory precautions that he and Bernadette agreed upon.

It's Penny's bright, sunshine smile and Bernadette's warm grin that finally allows him to relax the smallest amount. He'll get to the sand, Penny will pick a spot (naturally approved by himself of course), and he can take the proper work before getting into the water.

The sand can't be that terrible; it's basically gritty silicates and other such minerals—it's nearly as dangerous as a communal pool, he'd imagine, and he's wearing shoes and three pairs of socks for protection.

Penny's already in the water, having decided that Sheldon's brand of "spot-picking" is far superior to hers (really, she'd picked three spots and Sheldon had declined them all for various reasons).

She really shouldn't have been surprised when Sheldon wants to coat himself head-to-toe in zinc oxide, and he's also more interested in sand castles (with latex gloves of course) than in getting in the water. She's going to have none of that, but she'll bide her time.

Penny floats along the waves blissfully, and utterly forgets for a moment about dragging either of her significant others in with her. It washes over her face briefly, but she relishes the sting of salt over her face and nose. It does make her jerk briefly, until she can feel the rhythm of the waves against her body.

Bernadette tips her sunhat further as Sheldon starts with the umbrella. She's sitting on the towel she's spread out, rubbing her skin down with sunscreen. Her sunglasses are a little bit on her face, but she sees it as just offering her more protection from the sun. True to Sheldon's word, her alabaster skin is nearly white under the bright sunshine, and she gives Sheldon a grateful smile when he finishes angling the umbrella.

"The angle will need to be adjusted approximately every hour to hour and a half," Sheldon tells her, and snaps on a pair of gloves.

"Here, I'll do your sunscreen," Bernadette intervenes when Sheldon reaches for the pasty zinc oxide. Noses and cheeks are one thing—full body paste is another.

Sheldon looks at her questionably—Bernadette immediately shakes a bottle of hand sanitizer (unscented) at him. He sighs, and reluctantly peels off his clothing until he's down to a pair of argyle socks (brightly shaded in purple, green, and black) and his swim trunks (which aren't quite as eye-searing without the Hawaiian shirt on top). He looks at Bernadette warily.

Bernadette smiles at him encouragingly, and rubs sanitizer over her hands (allows twenty full seconds to dry), and follows up with the sunscreen. He doesn't jerk when she begins to rub it into his freckled back, and even relaxes as her fingers rub into his skin.

Penny bounds back up to them, all smiles and salt water and coconut oil. "The water feels fantastic!" she says gleefully, and stretches out on her towel in the sun. She glances back at Sheldon and Bernadette, and briefly wonders what she's even doing with the pair of them on a sunny beach in So-Cal.

They're both extremely intelligent after all (apparently, Bernadette's third in the IQ running, after Amy and Sheldon), with world-changing careers. They're also both completely out of their element here on the sand and surf—all pale skin and narrow limbs, scientific builds, she calls it—the kind of build that comes from long hours of research and the absent-mindedness that begets not eating in favor of continuing said-research.

Bernadette seems to see the cloudy look cross Penny's face, however brief, and her hands stall a bit on Sheldon's skin. He looks at her inquiringly, but she shakes her head and continues to rub the sunscreen into his shoulders next. He's already working on his legs, deciding that Bernadette's shake of the head indicated a lack of response from himself.

Penny looks up when Bernadette tugs on her hand. "Yes?" she draws out. "I'm pretending I'm a famous movie star."

The comment lacks the dreamy nature Penny was going for, and Bernadette only smiles back.

"It's your birthday, and I get to spend it with you and Sheldon—you're always a star in my book," Bernadette offers helpfully. "Show me how to swim in the ocean."

Penny gets up. "You've never swam in the ocean?"

Bernadette shakes her head. "Of course not—Sheldon made me test samples from the water here four times just to get him here." She tugs on Penny's hand. "Show me."

Penny looks over at Sheldon in question. He's applying white stuff to his nose. "Come on, Sheldon. You can't spend your life in the shade."

"Oh, you'll find that I can," he retorts challengingly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Penny kneels in front of him; Bernadette stands behind her to strip down to her tankini. "For me?" she asks. "I'll sing you Soft Kitty the next time you're sick."

Sheldon glowers. "You'll do that anyway," he responds arrogantly.

Penny rolls her eyes. "We'll spend tomorrow morning—with no complaining from Bernadette or me—at the train store."

Sheldon doesn't rise to it. "Bernadette already offered that to get me here."

Penny blows a piece of wet hair from her eyes, and suddenly bolts forward to wrap him in a wet, saltwater hug. He flails around her, all skinny limbs and indignant yelps.

"See? Now that you're wet, you can't get any wetter—you might as well come in with us."

"Or I can stay here and get dryer."

Bernadette has her head buried into Penny's shoulders to keep from outright laughing at their banter. It's never boring with the two of them, never a dull moment ever. She thinks back to this morning, when Penny was brushing her teeth and Sheldon was making coffee—she thinks she could probably get used to it, and that thought's a little terrifying, because seriously—three people don't stay together for life, do they? One of them eventually moves on and away, right?

It's that moment that has Bernadette understanding the briefly dark look on Penny's face, and she twines her arms around Penny's waist. If any of them ends up leaving, it'll more than likely be Bernadette herself—she can see it, easing herself away because Sheldon and Penny do have that wonderful, fantastic fairy-tale quality about their relationship—she's just there because Penny likes her too.

Sheldon sighs; Bernadette realizes he's asked her something, and she completely didn't hear what it was.

"Yes, Bernadette's coming too. She's the one that looked at the water and saw the stuff—do you think she'd go in if it wasn't safe?" Penny asks, and even though Bernadette is a little scared of some of the stuff she saw (and wisely left out of her reports to Sheldon), she still knows it to be fairly harmless (just gross is all).

Giving what is possibly the most put-upon exhalation either girl's ever heard from him, Sheldon gets to his feet and looks at the sand dubiously. It seems hot—and dear lord, is it ever.

Sheldon winces—Bernadette doesn't seem to be having issues, and Penny's babbling about how hot sand is the reason you get in the ocean in the first place, and the minute the surf hits his feet, he just wants to run back, all the way to Pasadena, and hide himself in his room until they make a radioactive cleanser for skin that won't give a person cancer.

His brain's running a million miles a minute, and he's frozen when the water's up to his knees. He simply can't move any further, despite Penny tugging at him and Bernadette tapping his arm to try and jog him from the trance. The water's lapping at his knees, and it'd be inviting if he weren't concerned for all the reports he'd made Bernadette give him.

It's when he gets a face full of salt water that comes out of it, sputtering and choking from where Bernadette dunked him into the water forcibly. He's choking too hard to wonder how the heck-fire she did it.

"There, instant inoculation," Bernadette responds, and begins paddling (albeit awkwardly) further into the briny waves. "How bad can it be? It's salt water; nature's own abrasive."

Sheldon steels himself, grits his teeth. He will not lose the warmth he gets from Bernadette's smile, the pleasure he gets from Penny's happiness. Certainly, he refuses to lose it to something as pointless as silicates and saline.

It's what propels him forward finally, and with Penny's hand securely tucked into his and Bernadette riding piggy-back on him, he finds it's not as bad as he thought. He's hanging onto Penny for dear life, and he's pretty sure Bernadette will have vascular breakage on her arm where he's gripping her tightly (both so she won't let go and he won't either), but still—not nearly as death-inducing as he thought it might be.

Until the first wave hits him in the face, and he wants back into his apartment again, preferably curled in his spot with Michio Kaku on the television so he can make fun of the outlandish theories on time travel. Bernadette's still on his back, and now she's hanging on for dear life because Sheldon's pretty sure her feet can't touch the ground here—it's up to his shoulders as it is, and Penny's treading water. Penny's graceful in the ocean, like a mermaid, flowing as easily with the waves as if she were born and lived to do so.

"Think of this as space," Penny tries in an attempt to calm him down. "All fluid, no real structures outside of what comes together?"

Sheldon glares at her. "It's hardly that simple—honestly, haven't you ever heard of accretion?"

"A-what?"

Sheldon wants to drop his head, but that'd put it in the water, and he's not sure he's ready for that barrier yet. Another wave splashes against his neck, perilously close to his mouth. It doesn't help that Bernadette's all but frozen against his back, clearly afraid now that she can't touch anything with her feet.

Penny's kissing him.

Sheldon's still a little shell-shocked from the waves lapping dangerously at his neck; he can't formulate a reaction to her mouth against his. Bernadette smells of sunscreen and rosemary-mint behind him, her arms locked tightly against his neck, but not strong enough to be choking him. She hasn't relaxed against him—he finally lets go of Penny's hand to hold on to both of her arms in an attempt to get her to understand that he won't let her go, won't let the ocean take her away.

He uses Penny's mouth against his own to pull back towards the shore, until the water's only lapping against his stomach. Bernadette seems to finally relax a little, and slides against his skin to touch the ground. She cautiously makes the trip to come around his side and firmly latch onto Penny next, because even she knows that Penny's the stronger swimmer of the three of them.

"I will be retreating to the sand now," Sheldon says firmly, though there's still fear in his voice. "And I don't expect to be dragged back in, not unless you wish a termination of what little agreement you allowed me to draft." He walks awkwardly back to the shore without waiting for a response.

Penny and Bernadette paddle a bit closer, but don't follow—they stay in the cool waves of the ocean instead. "God, it wasn't that bad, was it?" Penny asks carefully.

Bernadette tries to smile, she does—her facial muscles won't cooperate though, and judging by the look on Penny's face, she thinks she's finally managed to mimic Sheldon's murder-death-kill-smirk.

"Christ, I traumatized both of you, didn't I?" Penny asks, and plays with a tendril of wet hair. "Why'd you guys even do this if neither of you can stand it?"

Bernadette doesn't have an answer ready—not one she's willing to voice, but she's just suddenly had the epiphany that she's not just a little crazy about both of them—she's deeper in the waters than she originally hypothesized, and Christ on a cross, she's in love.

A wave catches her in the face before she can say anything else, and Penny's pulling her head from the water, pushing hair out of the way and patting her on the back to get her to cough it up.

"I know it's my birthday and all," Penny says, and the timid vulnerability in her voice is so completely unlike her that it makes Bernadette want to hug her until the voice goes away and gets back to the Penny she knows and (gulp) loves. "But you guys didn't have to risk your souls and well-being just to take me out here—you could've gone somewhere else and just dropped me off or something."

Bernadette's still coughing up seawater and struggling not to think of the instant-inoculation she'd given Sheldon earlier (karma). "We wanted to do this," she finally rasps out. "You love the beach, and you never really go because none of us back in Pasadena ever want to go—and it's no fun being here by yourself."

Sheldon watches from the shore as they chat, obligingly trying to acclimate himself to the ocean by allowing the surf to tickle his feet. He's standing awkwardly, trying not to give into that old visual trick of being pulled backwards while the ocean moves away—if he focuses too hard on it, it looks like the ocean's taking them away from him (and it's also vaguely nauseating).

He watches the easy affection, the simple touches they give back and forth—it's not something he thinks he's built to withstand, built to give back in return. Penny looks like she's a little angry, or sad—or has to go to the bathroom (he really is still terrible at facial expressions, though he's gotten slightly better with Bernadette and Penny). Whatever Penny's saying gets cut off as Bernadette uses the water to give herself a push, throw her arms around Penny's neck, and kiss her wildly and freely.

Sheldon swallows with difficulty—perhaps the nausea is getting to him. That, or he wishes he could be that easy around the two of them, wishes he could relax enough to let his brain slow down, wishes he could be in the water and not worry about whatever potential death threat lies behind the next wave of oncoming algae-soaked murder of mother nature. He clenches and unclenches his fists against his damp swim trunks—they're beginning to feel stiff as he dries off; his mind helpfully supplies the reasoning—salt is a natural exfoliator, and as the water evaporates, the brine is the majority of what's left over, so it's only—

He holds no illusions over his paradigm with Bernadette and Penny. He knows that at some point, it is inevitable that a routine or remark or any number of things about his caustic personality will drive one of them away, and Penny and Bernadette are…well, he's never thought much about how unshakeable they seem together.

Sheldon shakes his head; the water's still lapping a bit at his feet. He really doesn't want to go back in. At the same time, Bernadette and Penny are still out there, and they're both floating gently with the waves—though Penny seems more comfortable, and Bernadette appears to simply be "along for the ride"—the latter of the two doesn't seem to care, if the way Penny's fingers are inching under her tank are any indication.

He can't make himself go, however—his feet refuse to move forward. He sighs irritably with himself, and turns back for the towel and umbrella. It needs adjusting. Perhaps he will build a sand castle—he knows enough about engineering and the composition of most sand particles to do something satisfactory, though hardly impressive by his own standards and from what he's seen.

Still, Sheldon sets to work to keep his hands busy. Bernadette joins him to reapply sunscreen, and he's a little more irritated with himself when he realizes he'd nearly forgotten to do the same. Penny comes out too, though she's using a tanning oil and lying in the direct sunlight of high noon. He wants to caution her, but can't find the words as Bernadette goes and lies beside of her, slathered in SPF-75.

Instead, he adjusts the umbrella so that there's at least a little bit of shade on Bernadette, and offers her a wrap made of a floaty-material that seems more air than cloth. She accepts it, holds his gaze for a long moment—she's reading something in his face, he realizes, and he immediately turns away.

It's Penny's birthday, and he won't let his neuroses wreck something else that's so important to him. So he sets to work on the sand castle, and lets their voices drift over his ears—the waves are soothing music behind it, and he doesn't even realize that he's not wearing gloves as he listens more to the sounds then the words.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bernadette returns periodically to remind him of sunscreen and to reapply for herself. She watches him work curiously, even as she lies with Penny on the beach towel (though when 1PM drifts around, Bernadette tells Penny that she has no intention of returning to Pasadena a lobster, so she's gonna go under the umbrella). Their conversation rarely falters—but Bernadette finds her attention turning more and more to whatever Sheldon's building.

Penny finally raises her sunglasses, getting her hair off her face at the same time. "Sheldon," she says quietly.

Sheldon doesn't look up from his work, but he grunts a response that's reminiscent of the two times he's gotten stuck this past year on difficult equations and impossible reconciliations of mass ratios on the subatomic level.

Bernadette looks at Penny's face next, because there's a memory there. "What is it?"

Penny laughs weakly. "It's what he's building," she says quietly, and starts pointing to various structures that Sheldon's been building and shaving off expertly with fine-gauge hemp and the side of an old binder.

Bernadette frowns—it looks like a castle and a fort, a typical sand castle, really. "I don't get it," she says.

"You wouldn't—it's from Age of Conan," Penny says, and there's a little bit of awe in her voice as she starts telling Bernadette the various structures.

Bernadette's not sure she gets it really, because even though she'll occasionally play Halo (she's still a better sniper, but her fingers don't always want to cooperate with the bumpers), she can't really get into the RPG-games. It just wasn't that interesting for her—so on nights where Penny and Sheldon play Age of Conan, she uses the quiet time to work on various studies and papers on the agents she's been dousing with chemicals at work.

Their background chatter while they play is soothing; it helps her focus a little.

Sheldon sits back on his haunches, as if surveying his work, when he notices Penny pointing out the locations.

"How did you redo all of this?" Bernadette asks.

Sheldon gives another one-shouldered shrug—there's more freckles than normal on his skin, and his face is a little burned from the wind and sun. "Eidetic memory," he says simply. "No doubt it'll be kicked in the minute we leave," he mutters.

Penny reaches around for her bag, and digs until she finds her camera. She waves down a passing beach-goer, and immediately starts setting up for photos.

The guy she's flagged down isn't sure what to really make of the trio he's taking photos of—but hell, he must have cameraman tattooed on his face somewhere, because the blonde girl's the fifth person today to ask him to take a picture.

He does though, because both of the chicks are pretty cute, and there's only one guy with them. It's when the taller blonde that asked him to take the pictures gives both of her friends eskimo kisses that he decides it's not his day.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Penny flops onto the bed of the hotel room, promising herself that once her skin doesn't feel so gritty, she'll take a look at the view. She knows the hotel must be nice, because Sheldon wouldn't stay in one unless it was up to par. He's already going over the entire room with a blacklight though, and he won't take his gloves off until he's satisfied.

Bernadette's muttering something about shoving her microscope somewhere unpleasant, which earns her the Look that Penny's on pretty familiar terms with—it's more of a visual version of his "Penny, really?" remarks.

"If you'd have allowed me to pack your microscope, than I wouldn't have had to resort to the UV light," Sheldon shoots back, because this past year has taught him, if nothing else, that passivity works for no one, and he's hardly ever been one to be passive about anything.

"It's a very expensive piece of equipment, and you're forgetting; it's my assigned scope at work, not mine to take wherever I feel like it," Bernadette replies, and she rubs her skin. Despite the liberal applications of sunscreen, she's pretty sure she's really pink in some areas.

The white fingerprints that show up when she presses her arm confirm it. Good thing Sheldon's got aloe vera somewhere in his bag. He's actually managed to get a little bit of a tan, though his freckles are standing out more clearly than ever, and how did she not notice that he had that many freckles?

"So what's the plan for tonight?" Penny asks curiously. "I mean, I'd just assume go back to the beach, but I'd hate to traumatize anyone further."

The rest of her comment is said with self-deprecation, and it's something Sheldon, for once, picks up on. He flashes the UV light where Penny's lying down to make sure it's genuinely clean, and then sits down beside of her.

"It was hardly traumatizing," he points out. "Simply…uncomfortable. You are talking to someone who got thrown into lakes and creeks more times than I'm comfortable with remembering." He pats her arm, and there's not a stich of unease in the gesture, which surprises her. "Like many Texan fathers, mine chose the approach of sink or swim."

"Aw, sweetie; that's kind of sad," Penny says.

Sheldon snorts. "What's sad is that he chose not to learn from the first five times he was required to fish me out of the water." He gets up, scratches a bit at his chest. "I'm going to shower," he says abruptly, and walks into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

For all the time they've spent together, Sheldon prefers his showers alone, though Penny wonders if it's more of a space-issue than comfort—the boys' shower could hold two, but hers is barely big enough for her to move around with ease.

Bernadette sits in the exact same spot as Sheldon, tucking one of her legs beneath her as she does so. "Is it just me or do you want to go kill someone in his family too?"

Penny shrugs. "You get used to that feeling after about the fifth story about his childhood," she offers up simply, because it's not her place to tell these things—Sheldon often says things on his own and unprompted, though it is, now and again, at odd times.

Bernadette crosses her arms. "I don't see how you can get used to the feeling of wanting to see if prions will bring someone's brain back to life long enough for someone to bludgeon it back to death."

Penny looks a little worried. "There's something you've looked at that can bring brains back to life?"

Bernadette waves her off. "No, the brain has to be alive first; it's just the side-effects that make it seem dead in the end-stage of disease." She gets up and walks out to the balcony of their room, glaring moodily out into the view.

Penny falls back on the bed. Bernadette's terribly frightening sometimes, and this is precisely why.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The pre-evening plan (prevening, Sheldon calls it) is taking in the sights and walking around Surf City. Penny's always loved the beach culture, the sand-bums and pooka-shell peddlers, the dreadlocked girls, the hemp-necklace-sellers, all of it. She'd never even seen the ocean before moving to Pasadena, but she'd known her entire life that the dusty deserts of Nebraska weren't her.

She's not even sure the beach culture is her either, but the brightly-lit bars and even brighter drinks make her ridiculously happy, and despite Sheldon wiping down whatever she's bought from the beach peddlers with an absurd amount of sanitizer, it doesn't bring her down from it.

Huntington Beach has always been a destination for her—she's done her fair share of wearing clothes from the Hollister company, after all, before she realizes that living in Pasadena with the sole purpose of getting into show business required a different sort of wardrobe, and Penny's nothing if not adaptable.

Still, throughout the walking around and quiet conversation flowing steadily, she can't help but notice that Bernadette seems a bit off, and Sheldon's fact-spouting is more avoidance than actual information (something about the Tongva people and a legal dispute between Santa Cruz and Huntington Beach), as if he's avoiding talking about anything of actual substance.

Penny doesn't frown; she keeps her smile firmly in place. She'll grill them later, but right now, she's in a bar on the pier, and the drink in front of her practically screams "insta-drunk" if she gulps it in one go. At one point in her life, she might have—instead, she plays with the purple umbrella and sips it occasionally as Sheldon impatiently explains that yes, he really does want a virgin, diet Cuba Libre.

Penny looks at the bartender with sympathy. "If you slut it up with vodka, he's not going to notice," she offers helpfully.

The bartender's cute—mid-twenties, sun-bleached hair and bronze skin—and he gives Penny an easy smile as he taps the side of her glass. "Refill, honey?"

Penny shakes her head. "No, this is fine."

The bartender (she thinks his name is Jake) begins pouring ice and diet coke into a glass. "Vodka, huh? So he's with you?"

"Yeah. Him and the other blonde," Penny says, pointing vaguely to where Sheldon's talking Bernadette's ears off about notable people from this area, and then about the founding of the city back in the early 1900's.

"The one who wanted the strawberry daq," the bartender nods. "Name's Jake, by the way. How'd a pretty little thing like you get with him?"

Penny shrugs. "Sheer dumb luck, I guess," she offers up, and pretends not to see it when he splashes vodka into Sheldon's diet coke. "I dated his roommate first."

Jake laughs at that. "Isn't that how it goes?"

Sheldon comes back with Bernadette, who looks grateful to get away from the conversation. He sniffs at the diet cola, glares at Penny. "You know that my olfactory senses are above average for that of the normal human; what makes you believe I'd not be sensitive enough to scent out the vodka?"

Penny shrugs. "Live large, Shelly."

Sheldon doesn't correct the nickname, and glares at his drink instead.

"Fine, if you can't do it, I'll drink it. Go bore Bernadette some more about history instead of talking about what's actually bothering you," Penny fires off. She takes her drink and walks moodily along the pier until she sees the "No Alcohol Beyond This Point" sign, and settles for watching the sun dip lower in the sky.

Sheldon sighs irritably. He's making a mess of it; he's not clueless enough to be that oblivious, and Bernadette's looking at him accusingly. "Don't look at me; you weren't talking either."

Bernadette favors her drink instead of responding right away. "Maybe it's not worth bringing up," she finally says.

"Perhaps I was of the same opinion."

Jake rolls his eyes—it's not the first threeway he's ever served, and he's certain it won't be the last, and so he starts mixing up more strawberry daiquiris. "You could both try just…y'know. Talking to her."

Sheldon glares at him. "Pardon me, do I even know you?" He takes his drink and passes money quickly over the table.

Bernadette smiles a little apologetically. "He's a little weird."

Jake snorts. "Baby, you didn't have to tell me that; a manatee could've seen that."

Bernadette glances over to where Sheldon's looking like he wants to go after Penny, but, like the ocean, he simply can't. She sighs, because this is where she actually does come in. Sheldon can't force himself to do it, and Penny won't push the issue when she's feeling out of sorts herself—they've already had one blow-out with Bernadette stuck in the middle, trying to get them to quit saying hurtful things.

"Better go after them, baby," Jake says, and hands her another daiquiri. "You'll probably need that."

"You're telling me," Bernadette sighs, and finishes the drink in her hand before grabbing the new one. She takes a deep breath, steels herself up to her full height (it isn't much, but darn it, she's just as stubborn as they are), and approaches Sheldon first.

He jumps when she grabs his wrist and begins pulling. "Dear lord, what are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asks, and jerks harder. It makes him spill some of his drink, and he tumbles after her, barely catching his footing before the wood of the pier catches his face.

Penny looks up as they approach, confusion plain on her face. Bernadette's on the verge of bodily dragging Sheldon back towards her, and when they arrive, Bernadette firmly shoves Sheldon down onto the bench.

"Bernadette, what are you—hey!" Penny doesn't finish her sentence because Bernadette's pushed her down too, and then taken a seat on Sheldon's other side.

"We're talking it out now," Bernadette says stiffly. "Because I'm not spending the next two nights acting like this, not when we planned something special." She doesn't get a response, so she wipes the condensation from her glass onto her skirt, and forces herself to stop fidgeting. "It's been a year since we started doing this—and I keep waiting for you two to realize that you don't need me to be in this at all, and then I'm going to have find someone else—or worse, end up with Howard because I'm kind of a little bit in love with this, and I really want this to work out, because it's good, and even if it shouldn't work, it does work when we're not being all jerk-wad to each other, or putzes, and—"

She stops abruptly, because she's realizing just how much is really spilling out of her (which is nothing to say for how quickly), and Sheldon and Penny are giving her identically confused, shocked looks. Okay, she might've gone a little overboard, and—wait, she told them she loved them…well, it's her only Hail Mary, and by god, she's taking it.

Bernadette doesn't continue talking though, and the silence stretches on for long moments as the sun dims further. Instead, she feels more than sees Penny stand up and sit on her other side, just on the very edge of the bench—it can't be comfortable, but Penny's not moving away.

"Are you insane?" Penny asks, and Bernadette can't tell why she's asking, or if there's any real emotion other than concern and confusion flitting across Penny's voice.

"No?" Bernadette responds.

Sheldon snorts. "Are you asking her or telling her?"

"Zip your hole, Sheldon," Penny snaps, and turns her face back to Bernadette. "Well? Are you insane? Did you hit your head? Are you drunk off the one and a half daiquiris?"

"No!" Bernadette says emphatically, and she wonders how it came out so wrong that Penny thinks she's suffered a potential head injury.

But then Penny drops her forehead against Bernadette's. "Because honest to god, I thought you'd like…hit your head and got mutant powers or something; I was thinking the same thing all day."

Bernadette breathes a sigh of relief.

Sheldon shifts uncomfortably next to them—this is the part where they tell him that they had a good time, but they're going to press on without him. The unexpected jab to what he's pretty sure is the "heart" of his brain makes him want to keel over. If this is the human emotion that Bernadette just called love, he's fairly certain he'd rather go back in time and handle the twice-cursed Demon Core before it was detonated.

"I kept thinking how you and Sheldon are…well, hell, you guys know you're brilliant—you're going to change things, do things…and I'm just…I'm just Penny, and you two did all of this for me, just for my birthday, and I didn't want to say anything and ruin it like things got wrecked with Leonard."

Sheldon slips further down the bench. It's physically hurting a bit to not reach out to either one of them, because he knows they're about to let him know that he can't do that anymore. He can feel it, all the way down to his water-tipped fingers. He drinks from the diet cola, winces at the aftertaste of starchy-vodka.

"Sheldon? Do you have anything you want to say?" Bernadette prompts him. "Penny and I said things that were bothering us; don't you have anything too?"

Sheldon doesn't respond right away; he's searching for the right words to tell them it's okay that they're leaving him behind (it's not, liar) without his face seizing. His knee is already jumping from his desire to just go ahead and get away—it's only an hour to Pasadena; Leonard will pick him up (though he'll have to endure verbal torment all the way back).

Unless he wears earplugs, or takes Dramamine and pleads carsickness—then he'll at least be out and sedated, and he won't be able to feel how he's pretty sure his heart is getting ripped out of his chest. He grips the glass tighter.

"Sheldon," Penny says. "We both know something's bothering you; why won't you say anything?"

Because he physically can't respond, he just stares at the sunset instead.

Bernadette tries again next. "What happens to our blood pressure and stress levels when we bottle things up?" she points out.

Sheldon glares at her, because he can't argue the scientific response of the body to overwrought emotions. "They rise," he finally grits out, because he's pretty sure if he keeps going, he's going to say things that he'd never thought would come out of his mouth, and he's pretty sure they would be ill-received at this point.

Bernadette seems a bit confused by his lack of explanation. "They do, because of the hormones our body produces in response to it," she says for him. "Which will make it that much worse when you do finally let it out." Her firmer voice comes out near the end. "Tell us now what's bothering you, or it'll just be all the harder and meaner when you do let it go."

"I'm perfectly capable of expressing emotion in a calm and pleasing fashion, albeit honest," Sheldon retorts, and there's steel threading through his voice that makes Penny sit back a bit, because she's never heard him so close to losing his precious control.

"I'll count to three," Bernadette threatens.

"I'm not a child," Sheldon snaps, and all of the sudden, he's on his feet and it's all pouring out of him in a rush, the words passing so quickly, that he's not even sure if he's saying all of them. "You'll have to pardon my lack of contentment and excitement at the fact that while you and Penny are reconciling, it is simply another bell tolling for my exit from this paradigm. I knew this was going to be an eventuality; I was rather hoping it would be a bit further in the future from now. However, while I am pleased for the two of you, it is leaving the task of finding a mode of transport back to Pasadena to myself, and I do not envy hearing Leonard's "I told you so" speech—he has the tendency to do so in the manner of Dr. Elliot Reid from Scrubs, and I don't like Scrubs." He puts his drink down—it's empty, just like he feels, and he didn't know it was possible to feel this hollow. "So, if you will excuse my sudden departure, I would prefer to, as they say, "lick my wounds in peace"."

Penny's got him by the arm and Bernadette's wrapped her small arms around his narrow waist before he can make an exit though.

"Are you insane?" Penny's asking him now when she knows what the answer will be.

"Of course not; my mother had me tested," Sheldon responds automatically, and stiffens when Penny maneuvers Bernadette so she's hugging Sheldon's front, and Penny wraps her arms around him from behind.

"You're so…you're such a goof," Penny says affectionately. "Didn't you hear either one of us? We're not leaving you; we're a little head-over-heels for you and each other."

Sheldon doesn't seem to buy it, and he awkwardly places his hands on Penny's shoulder—it's so close to the way he used to touch her that it makes her hold on tighter, pulling Bernadette flush against Sheldon's back with her hands.

"Your mother had you tested as a child; I'm beginning to think the insanity didn't set in until adulthood," Bernadette says, thumping her forehead against Sheldon's back. "Weren't you listening?"

"Of course I was listening; I hear everything," Sheldon responds, and then it does come back to him a little bit—Bernadette being a little in love with them, not just Penny, but the way Penny had gone around to talk only to Bernadette had felt exclusive—

Love really is a mind-altering drug.

So he does what any sane man in his position would do—he wraps an arm around Penny's shoulders, takes Bernadette's hand into his own. He kisses Penny's cheek and then Bernadette's palm—he tastes sweat on both their skin.

"I swear to god, it's like a toddler who keeps putting their hand on a hot stove," Penny mutters against Sheldon's torso.

Inexplicably to Penny, this causes Bernadette to burst into abrupt laughter, and Sheldon to give an honest-to-god-giggle against her hair.

Jake's cleaning glasses, closes out the tab when the taller blonde girl comes bounding back for the boyfriend's card. He winks at her—Jake's not even remotely straight, but it's possibly what tuned him into that little trio at his bar tonight. It's why he bartends—he likes the people.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Their skin is smooth beneath his fingers, and the wind has picked up outside of their open balcony. The smell of salt and sand is heavy in the room, mixing with the scent of sweat and skin, kisses and touches. Sheldon lies flat on his back, knees slightly drawn toward him in a casual position he's not sure he can really effect, but Penny and Bernadette aren't complaining. Bernadette has a small hand worked beneath his chinos, and she's working his erection firmly and with purpose.

Sheldon swallows hard, the sensations are nearly always too much for him to process suitably, and it's these rare times that he stops thinking about what's going on around him and gives over to the events he's partaking in. It isn't to say he's numb to it—a particularly wicked twist of Bernadette's hand has him bucking upward, and he nips a bit harder than he meant to at Penny's mouth (if the sound she makes is any indication, it wasn't hard enough)—it is, however, to say that when they do this, he's not worried about the multitude of potential splits and roads in the universe that could be the end of him, or—worse—the end of this.

Penny's moved onto to his collarbone, and he stretches a hand around to push under her summery, purple v-neck shirt. Her skin feels smooth and slippery, both from tanning oil and salt water having sloughed off the dead layer of squamous epithelial cells, and his fingers dig in. She slides against him, tweaking one of his nipples first with her fingers, and then with her lips.

Sheldon grunts again, tries to hold back the moan. It's not like they've never done this, after all—it feels more intense, it feels more heart-crushing than before, and he tugs on Bernadette's bra strap so she'll come and kiss him, because he needs to know she's there. She obliges, humming happily against his mouth as her hand continues to work on his throbbing arousal. Its borderline painful, but he doesn't want this to end, wants it to last forever. He's unfamiliar with wanting things to last forever, because forever is ambiguous at best, and –oh, he can't make himself care right now, because Penny's mouth has joined Bernadette's hand, and Bernadette's still kissing him so sweetly that it hurts and arouses him worse with the contrast in their styles.

It's when Bernadette whimpers slightly against his mouth that Sheldon finally pulls away, lets Bernadette's head drop against his shoulder—Penny's still sliding her mouth easily along his cock, but one of her hands has wormed its way under Bernadette's skirt, and, if her breathing patterns are any indication, definitely under her panties.

Sheldon sits up slightly, stroking one hand over Penny's hair and reaching with the other to join Penny's hand beneath Bernadette's skirt. Bernadette whines again, one of her legs falling to the side to allow better access. It seems a mostly unconscious move on her part; she doesn't seem to realize she's done it. He wants to pull her into his lap, but that would require the delicious, wet friction between his legs to cease, and he's not sure he wants that to stop either.

Instead, Penny looks up at him in surprise and curiosity when he traces a free hand along the curve of her buttocks, tracing fingers beneath the hemline of her shorts. It's a bold move, she thinks, trying to please two women manually at the same time—especially when Penny's talented mouth is working magic on him—but if he thinks he can handle it…

What she doesn't expect is for Sheldon to tug on her hair. She groans her surprise when he kisses her, and he swipes his tongue against her lips. Bernadette's still lying on his other side, and Sheldon's maneuvering himself and Penny on the bed until Penny's lying beside of Bernadette, who's beginning to look like she can't remember her own name.

Penny watches Sheldon twist his wrist against Bernadette in a way she recognizes, and is thus completely unsurprised when Bernadette buries her lips against Penny's neck and shoulder, teeth grazing her skin. Penny's busy enough with Bernadette that she misses the way Sheldon's other hand is moving with an obvious intent up her inner thigh.

Before she knows it though, he's tracing fingers along the wet slip of her entrance, and her voice chokes in her throat. Bernadette's further along, and her hips are moving in time with Sheldon's hand. Sheldon's sitting on his heels between them, and Penny pulls off her shorts and panties, always unconscious and unashamed of her body.

Sheldon takes a deep breath, because Bernadette's mouthing one of Penny's nipples softly now, and her small fingers are tracing patterns and pictures in a path down Penny's stomach. Sheldon tips her hand away though admonishingly—he wants to do this.

Bernadette looks like she's going to protest, until Sheldon slips his thumb up to circle her clit, simply edging around it, as if in warning. Whatever she's about to say dies in her throat, and she settles a bit when Penny winds an arm around her neck and pulls her in for a kiss.

Sheldon gives Penny little warning—he's wholly unprepared for the shock of her hips immediately rising to meet the two fingers he plunges into her. He groans at the combined heat and dampness from the two women, is equally unprepared for how that would feel at the same time. Instead, he concentrates instead on getting Penny to the same place Bernadette's already at—it requires him to slow one hand down and speed the other one up without sexually frustrating or hurting either girl. It's almost like playing the piano, but with his hands playing different volumes instead of different tempos.

Bernadette, if she has any complaints, is getting quieted by Penny's mouth dominating hers though, and Sheldon leans over (a bit awkwardly, he really is quite tall) to place a smudgy kiss along both their hip bones. He twists his fingers again with Penny, curling them forward against the sponge-like tissue, and nearly stopping all together with Bernadette. Bernadette cries out against Penny's mouth—it's not the cry he was aiming for, it's more frustration and not enough of "don't stop".

Sheldon concentrates more on Penny for the moment, though something's apparently gotten into her (besides the obvious, of course), and she may not be as far off as he'd originally imagined. Bernadette doesn't seem able to help herself anymore, and she drops her fingers against Penny to circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves that are slipping against Sheldon's thumb.

Penny whimpers into Bernadette's mouth, her hips arc up against their ministrations. Sheldon tries to tell himself that it's not punishment when he flicks the same sensitive hooded nub of nerves on Bernadette, but can't deny the pleasure that surges through him when he makes her cry out with how good it feels. Bernadette's always so much quieter when they do this than Penny (or himself, even), and he rounds his thumb against the edge of the hooded skin to hear the whine drop from the back of her throat again, his own hips thrusting a bit from his crouched position in response.

Bernadette's sitting up though, and she's dragging him by the neck with her free hand to kiss him, and it's the same sort of chaotic kiss that he's reasonably certain she learned from Penny—or it's possible that it's something entirely belonging to Bernadette—either way, both his hands are busy, and he wants more, but he's wholly unwilling to remove either of his hands.

Bernadette's moans are falling into his mouth; he takes them eagerly, and doesn't realize the hand working Penny is becoming more and more distracted. Penny grunts at him in frustration, and Sheldon feels like his brain is going to fizzle out from overload. It's hard enough to stop himself from rubbing himself to completion against Bernadette's hip, hard enough to concentrate on pleasuring them both with Bernadette riding his hand and kissing him like the world's about to end.

Penny's moving, he realizes sluggishly; she twists until his fingers fall from her body, and she's digging in her purse until she pulls out a condom. Penny's quite possibly the biggest dichotomy of his life, always a mystery in contradictions.

The brightest example, naturally, being this moment now when she's applying the condom to his aching erection, and forcing him back down to the bed. He wonders for a moment what the plan is, but then Bernadette's straddling him, and he can't think at all after that, because she's slipped herself onto him, taking him in quicker than he'd thought to prepare himself for.

Penny falls to his side, and he can't help kissing her even as one of his hands drifts up to palm at Bernadette's breast, fingers twisting over her nipple and appreciating the tiny cry that drops from her mouth. It's too much, too much, he can't concentrate, can't focus, can't think, they're going to kill him, he swears under everything he doesn't believe in, everything he does subscribe to—this will be the end of him, and he's not even sure he really cares that much, not with Bernadette rocking against him, and Penny pulling his hand back to her entrance, and his fingers slide in easily, as if that were the only place they were ever meant to be.

Penny groans against his mouth; he feels Bernadette join his hand once again on the taller blonde, though the movements this time are a bit more focused and deliberate. He bucks up into Bernadette, feels the smaller blonde fall against his chest as the unexpected orgasm rips through her like a shot, and it has her near-boneless on top of him.

Sheldon's running on instinct he didn't know he possessed, and he turns so that Bernadette's lying on the bed, and he's thrusting into her, holding onto her hip for leverage and still manipulating Penny's sex with his free hand. Penny's writhing against him; she's taken to burying her face into Bernadette's hair, even as Bernadette looks like she's on the verge of another wave of pleasure once more.

Sheldon doesn't expect the rough growl that emanates from the back of his throat; Penny's hips arc and buck against his hand, he can feel it as she comes, can feel her muscles twitching and squeezing his fingers, and his hips are thrusting harder against Bernadette to seek his own completion. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, he sits up a bit and buries his head into her hair when his orgasm finally roars within him like the final clap of thunder in a bad storm—it's quick and almost shocking in its intensity, and it takes him a bit to come down.

When he finally does, Bernadette's still curled in his lap, and Penny's leaned against his side, almost perpendicular—it only takes him a moment to realize it's so she can hug them both a little bit.

Penny lets them use the shower first, because while they're all sweaty and sticky, it's driving them crazier than it does her. She lays on the pillow lazily, watching them with a slightly dreamy look on her face as they debate who gets in first, and finally, Bernadette simply shuts the bathroom door in Sheldon's face.

Penny laughs, and has little sympathy for when Sheldon glares at her like a kicked puppy that's sullen as well. She rubs a hand affectionately over his hair and kisses his temple, which to her surprise, seems to soothe him the barest bit.

The wind blows in from the open balcony, and Penny stretches lazily on the bed.

Best birthday ever.

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End file.
